Insane
by LordofthePandas
Summary: AU Tori Vega is surprised to learn that she is being sent to Hollywood A.R.T.S.- a rehabilitation center for teens suffering from disabilities. Once there, her life will be forever changed, especially upon meeting the mysterious couple that consists of Beck Oliver and Jade West. Focuses mostly on Bade, other pairings included Cabbie and Tandre


**Hiya duckies! This is the first fanfic I've posted, and I hope you all like it! It will focus on the relationship of Beck and Jade primarily, but will also feature the pairing of Robbie and Cat, as well of that between Tori and ****Andre. **

**This is a troubled teens AU. The characters all live in a correctional facility, and self-harm and other potentially hard topics will be brought up. Cursing, although it will be sparse, will also occur. You have been warned. **

**Disclaimer: All recognizable content is not mine, and I will try to use as few OCs as possible. They will be mentioned by name here when they appear. All other ideas are mine**

**Okay, sorry about all of that XD. So, without further ado, may I present the first chapter of **_**Insane**_**:**

Perfectly Imperfect

* * *

"_You are loved just for being who you are, just for existing. You don't have to do anything to earn it. Your shortcomings, your lack of self-esteem, physical perfection, or social and economic success - none of that matters. No one can take this love away from you, and it will always be here."_

_Ram Dass_

* * *

Tori Vega was furious. If she were in a cartoon, flames would be shooting from her eyes, and steam billowing out of her ears. 'If only looks could kill,' the brunette mused to herself silently, glaring at her parents. The said pair were looking at their so-called "troubled" daughter, concerned expressions marring their aging faces. To be completely honest, Tori wasn't quite sure what she had done wrong this time. Her record was impeccable, perfect, just the way she liked things. her grades were top-notch, as she excelled in her prestigious school. If she were to think more juvenile than that, her room was also straightened and organized, a stark difference to her slob of sister's living quarters.

Never would Tori have imagined that her perfectionist qualities would be the reason she was having this life-altering conversation with her parents.

Her mother was the first to break the tense atmosphere that held the living room in its tight clutches. The older woman was wringing her hands together with anxiety, a trait Tori did not often associate with the one who had raised her. Her maternal figure was brash and somewhat headstrong, complusive. To see her caught up over something was unsettling for Tori, who just wished this whole thing was over.

"Tori, dear, the school called today," Holly Vega spoke up, her voice quivering nervously, as if she did not know how to relay the coming information onto her youngest daughter. The sixteen year old's brown eyes widened considerably at this, her slouched position morphing into perfect posture. Always perfect. If the school had called, something within Tori's life was not faultless.

She did not know how to deal with imperfection. _It wasn't right._

"The school psychiatrist, in particular, was the one who did the majority of the talking," The older Vega amended, having difficulty forcing the words that needed to be heard out. "Your mental health screening came back with some, um, _complicatilties_." Mrs. Vega tested the word out, debating whether it rightly described the situation. Tori's father, seemingly becoming impatient, interrupted.

"Honey, they seem to believe that your drive to be perfect could be potentially harmful," David Vega explained, watching his youngest for her reaction to his statement. "They have reason to think you might have Obsessive-Compulsive Personality Disorder."

Tori sat watching them, her expression slowly changing into one of shock, "You guys are yelling at me for trying to be my best?" One of her hands found its way to her dark brown hair, raking through it as she attempted to comprehend what her parents were telling her. What was wrong with perfection? It was, well, _perfect. _Tori had spent her entire life trying to maintain the perfect physical, educational, and social status she had obtained. She was pretty, smart, and popular. And apparently, mentally impaired.

"No, no, of course not." The police officer reassured, coming to sit next to his daughter. "We've done a lot of research today to get a better understanding of what you might be dealing with. And, it sounds pretty accurate, from what we have read so far," Holly joined them on the red couch, joining in once more,

"We have also found a place not to far away that will be able to help treat you and get you back to school before that start of next year," she said excitedly, believing the most difficult part of the conversation to be over. Tori froze, her eyes snapping back and forth between her parents to make sure they were not lying.

"Hold up, I'm not going back to school?" Anger flared up from within her, although it was muffled by the deep rooted anxiety that was beginning to build. What would happen to her academics? She would have to drop out of her dance and ping pong classes, not to mention her friends. _Jesus_, how would her peers react when the found out she was mentally inept? Never again would Tori Vega be allowed to step into the public. This was all going _far_ too fast. "I love Sherwood!" She protested, seeing the guilty look on her mother's face.

"I know, sweetie, but they will not accept you back if you are potentially a danger to yourself or other students," her father tried to convince, hands out as if to appease his youngest. Her eyes were wide as she stared at the ground with deep contemplation, her mind whirring as it attempted to calculate the best solution to her dilemma. Tori shook her head to clear her thoughts.

"We're going to have to insist that you do this," Her mother continued, watching her daughter carefully. "We'll be able to visit you on weekends, but I'm afraid that is all we can do-" Tori shot up out of her seat.

"YOU'RE SENDING ME AWAY?" The young Latina was almost to the point of hyperventilating, her anger bubbling up. "I thought I was still going to be allowed to at least _live _here! Isn't there any other option?" The perfectionist needed her control over the situation, but there was none for her to obtain. Why did her parents choose now of all times to be serious and responsible? Normally they preferred the whole laissez-faire approach, and that was how Tori preferred it.

Both adults jumped to their feet as well, trying to calm their child. "It's the only way, honey," Holly Vega confirmed, hugging the sixteen year old to her chest. "A disorder like yours is often deep rooted, and can take a while to fix. The case you have is not to bad, though. You'll be out before you know it." Their stance was cliche and soothing, but Tori was exhausted from the whole conversation already. She eventually gave in to her mother's hugging, melting into the older woman's comforting embrace.

"Fine…" she breathed out,"When do I go?" Holly perked up excitedly, giving her daughter a squeeze of encouragement. Before Tori could blink, a small, light purple pamphlet was shoved into her tan hands, courtesy of her mother.

"You'll start there this Friday," The irresponsible older woman beamed, "I'm so proud of you for doing this!" After one more quick hug, the two adult Vegas departed quickly from the living room, muttering excuses about needing to get to work on her paperwork. Tori knew that, in reality, they were terrified that she would change her mind if they had stayed but a moment longer.

Tori sighed again, allowing her small frame to flop backwards onto the bright red sofa once more. She eyed the brochure warily, scanning the front page. An artistically written logo was the front page, the name of her future home (house, never home, Tori corrected herself) typed neatly across the top. Hollywood A.R.T.S, it was was called. The Los Angeles **A**rea for **R**ehabilitating **T**eens who are **S**anable. Tori raised a delicate eyebrow at its title, it seemed a bit redundant. Regardless, she flipped to the next page, reading on.

The next section began describing the facilities, as well as the various types of patients often served there. The success rate was actually quite high, and few teens were ever there longer than a few years at most. Tori nodded as she scanned over the information duly, none of it peaked her interest. She, in truth, was going to the wretched place solely for her parents. The young Latina still was having trouble processing the fact that she was considered disabled. It had barely been an hour since she was given the fateful talk that had shaken her world, and time had blurred past.

A small paragraph near the bottom of one of the pages caught her eye, and Tori couldn't help but scan it over. Apparently, the staff encouraged their patients (or victims, as Tori had begun to refer to them in her mind) to participate in social or creative activities such as plays, singing, or music in general. In tiny subscript, a scientific explanation offered a reason for doing this, but Tori didn't even glance over it. The pamphlet was tossed aside, and the brunette stood. Her pearphone was retrieved from her pocket, and with a few quick keystrokes, a hurried message was sent out to her friend Ian.

The boy wasn't necessarily popular, rather preferring to associate himself with the those who melded in with the background noise. Ian, however, was a good and trusted friend, had been one since before the first grade. Tori did not have very many true comrades, only a select few. Most of those she associated with in Sherwood High tended to be those were atop the social ladder. Call her shallow, but she wanted to appear perfect. Regardless, Ian was the one person she trusted to tell the truth to.

As she waited for her friend to arrive, Tori ascended the steps that led to the second floor. Trina, Tori's self-absorbed and spoiled older sister, poked her head out of her room as Tori passed, face smeared over with some white substance and hair piled high on her head wrapped with a towel. Loud music blasted from inside, which explained why Trina had heard none of the earlier conversation. The older girl was still peering out, calling out to her sister.

"Tori! Tori! Can you help me shave my legs? I just can't do it evenly!" the said girl looked over with an expression of disgust.

"Ew, Trina no, I will not help you shave your legs!" Tori quickly entered her room, locking the door before Trina could ask for another bizarre favor. 'And I'm the mental one,' she mused. Her pearphone buzzed in her pocket, signalling that Ian was on his way over. Tori tossed her fruit-shaped device onto her bed, quickly hopping on it as well. She didn't want to leave this place, she reflected, staring at her light blue ceiling. The only sound that broke the silent was the gentle whirring of the fan as it sliced through the air.

She wasn't _that _obsessed with perfection, was she? It wasn't like she spent every waking moment with the constant drive to have everyone and thing do exactly as she wanted- Tori sat up suddenly. Holy crap, that sounded _exactly_ like her. She Tori always needed a sense of control over a situation, always needed other people to love her and fulfill her needs. And just today, she had had a problem with her parents stepping up to take charge of the situation, just because Tori merely was not used to it.

Snatching her laptop quickly off her desk, Tori opened her search engine and plugged in Obsessive-Compulsive Personality Disorder. Immediately, results began popping up. The sixteen year old clicked on a link, bringing up the following article;

Obsessive-Compulsive Personality Disorder is mostly described as correlating with perfectionism and orderliness. The patient often will become upset or angry when they cannot control their environment, although this is often expressed passive-aggressively. Organization, along with lists, schedules, and practiced routine are extremely important values to the patient. Often, the patient will dwell on on point for so long, the task at hand will never be fully completed.

Work is always the priority, and often leisure activities or social importances are sacrificed to make up for this. The patient is often reluctant to to work with others unless they submit to exactly his or her way of doing things. The patient can and will become defensive over his or her values, and is often stubborn and rigid in…

Tori closed her laptop as she heard the doorbell ring distantly. Admittedly, what the article was describing did sound familiar. It wasn't entirely accurate for her case, but she supposed everyone demonstrated it a bit differently. She quickly made her way downstairs, unlatching the door to reveal a longer haired boy. "Ian!" she greeted, beckoning him to come in.

"Hey Tori! Got your message. What's up?" Her long time friend entered. Tori began once more trudging up the stairs, and Ian followed behind leisurely, at home in the Vega's house after coming for so many years.

"I, uh, I have a bit of a problem,"

**So...how did I do? Hopefully it wasn't too bad… I'm sorry it was so short. If you guys don't think I should continue the story, please let me know. Otherwise, please drop a note or comment. I'm open to any ideas or suggestions a well! :) Does everyone still remember Ian? He was only in the first episode, but he fit in well here. He won't appear much in the rest of the story. Thanks!**

**Love,**

**Panda**


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